TRIALS OF THE EARLY SETTLERS--THEIR FORTS, AND OTHER MEANS OF DEFENCE.
The first outbreak of the war in 1775 found the frontier inhabitants
few in number and without arms. Living in a remote part of the State,
where no invading foe would be likely to come, many young and vigorous
men went forward and joined the army. This fancied security, however,
proved a sad delusion to the frontier-men; and the absence of any
regular means of defence was only severely felt when the savages came
down from the mountain, ripe for rapine, blood, and theft. The fact
that the northwestern savages had allied themselves to the English was
only fully realized by the residents of the Juniata Valley when the
painted warriors came down the Kittaning War Path, and commenced their
infernal and atrocious work by scalping women and innocent babes.
The first alarm and panic over, people collected together and consulted
about some means of defence. The more prudent were in favor of
abandoning their farms and retiring to some of the eastern settlements,
which many did, especially after it was discovered that so many of the
king's subjects were likely to remain loyal instead of joining the
cause of the patriots. The more daring would not agree to abandon their
homes, but at once pledged themselves to defend their firesides at the
risk of their lives.
To this end, in the fall of 1777, and in the spring of 1778, a number
of fortifications were commenced, the farms abandoned, or partially so,
and the inhabitants assumed an attitude of defence. These forts were
generally stockades, built of logs or puncheons, with loop-holes made
to flare on the outside, in order to bring rifles to bear in several
directions.
The first of these forts was built near where McCahen's Mill now
stands, which was called Fetter's or Frankstown, about a mile above
Hollidaysburg. A barn on the flat opposite the second lock, a mile
below Hollidaysburg, was turned into a fort and called Holliday's. It
was an old barn, but very large, and belonged to one Peter Titus.
Through the energy of Mr. Holliday and a few others, it was made
comfortable, but not deemed very secure. These forts served for the
families in what was termed the Frankstown district, comprising not
only Frankstown, but all the surrounding country. In Canoe Valley a
fort was built, called Lowry's Fort, but it was small and inconvenient;
and the house of Matthew Dean, a mile farther up, was also turned into
a temporary fortress in 1777. These served the people of Canoe Valley
and Water Street. The people of Hartslog Valley erected a fort south of
Alexandria, on Cannon's mill-run, called Lytle's. A large and
substantial garrison, called Hartsock's Fort, was built in Woodcock
Valley, which served for the people of that valley and also for the
residents of the middle of the Cove. The inhabitants of the lower end
of the Cove, and along Clover Creek, forted at the house of Captain
Phillips, some two or three miles above where Williamsburg now stands,
which was turned into a temporary fortress. Anderson's Fort was erected
where Petersburg now stands, while along Shaver's Creek there were two
others--one at General McElery's, and the other at Alexander
McCormick's, toward Stone Creek. The latter was merely a house
fortified without additional buildings, as was also the house of
Captain E. Rickets, in Warrior's Mark. Forts were also built at
Dunning's Creek, and on the Raystown Branch, while the forts at
Standing Stone and Bedford were enlarged and improved. The year
following, a very substantial fort was built at the residence of Jacob
Roller, in Sinking Valley, to accommodate the large influx of people
into the valley. In the fall of 1778, Fort Roberdeau, or as it was
better known, the Lead Mine Fort, in Sinking Valley, was completed. It
was the largest as well as the best-defended post on the frontier. It
was built under the superintendence of General Roberdeau, and occupied
by Major Cluggage, with a regular company from Cumberland county. On
the ramparts two cannon were mounted, and in the fortress there were
plenty of small-arms and ammunition. This fort was strengthened by
government. Lead was exceedingly scarce, and a high value was attached
to it; and, fearing that the mines might fall into the hands of the
enemy, the most vigilant watch was kept and the most rigid military
discipline enforced.
During the summer of 1776, very few depredations were committed; but in
the following year, as succeeding chapters will show, the incursions
and massacres of the Indians were so bold and cruel that the utmost
consternation prevailed, and business was in a great measure suspended.
The settlers managed to get their sowing done in both fall and spring,
but much was sowed that never was reaped. To add to their deplorable
condition, the horrors of starvation were constantly staring them in
the face.
In order to get in crops, it was necessary to have the reapers guarded
and sentinels posted at each corner of a field, while half-grown boys
followed in the very footsteps of the laborers, carrying their rifles
loaded and primed for defence. By such means they managed to get a
scant supply of grain.
The cattle were suffered to graze at large, for seldom, if ever, any of
them were molested. Hogs, too, were suffered to run at large in the
woods, feeding upon roots and acorns. When meat was wanted, a party ran
down a hog or heifer, butchered it, and took it to the fort. As for
such luxuries as coffee, tea, sugar, &c., they were among the missing,
and little cared for.
It is not, we hope, to the discredit of any of the best men in the
Juniata Valley now, to say that their fathers were born in forts and
rocked in sugar-troughs, and their grandfathers wore entire suits,
including shoes, made of buckskin, lived sometimes on poor fare, and
short allowance at that. They were the men whose sinewy arms hewed down
the monarchs of the forest, and, with shovel, hoe, plough, and pick,
that we might enjoy the bounties of mother earth when they were
mouldering in the bosom thereof, made "waste places glad" and the
wilderness to blossom like the rose. Hallowed be their names! But,
while we raise the tuneful lay to sing psalms of praise to the glorious
old pioneers who by hardship and toil have entailed such blessings upon
us, is it not a melancholy reflection to think that in but a few
succeeding generations the scanty pages of _ancient_ histories
alone will be the monuments to chronicle their deeds?